"If you obey all the rules, you miss all the fun." - Katharine Hepburn

Sunday, 19 November 2006

The Firsts and Lasts of Moving Abroad

My recent BonjourParis.com column is now available. Although I wrote it before I actually got on the plane and I'm already in Paris, I hope it manages to convey the emotional pendulum that comes with the decision to move abroad.

By the time you read this, I will be living in Paris. Not just a
tourist this time around, taking a week or two of precious vacation
time to see the sights, but officially an ex-pat, I’m in it for the
long haul, living life abroad. And it’s been an emotional
roller-coaster, this last couple of weeks.

It’s a time of “lasts” all the way around: the last week before
boarding the plane; the last get-together with dear friends; the last
Halloween (not such a big deal in France); the last family dinner for a
while (I’m missing Thanksgiving but consoling myself with the thought
that I will be back for a few weeks at Christmas).

When I went to my last French class, intending to surprise my teacher
and classmates with some French treats I got at a local patisserie
(yes, there actually IS one in New Jersey), it turns out I was the one
who was surprised! One classmate baked some French pastry cookies for
me, and others, including my teacher and the directrice of the school,
gave me some lovely parting gifts: a book on unusual things to do in
Paris; a set of French immersion CDs to help me improve my admittedly
weak listening comprehension skills; and a delightful book of Thomas
Jefferson’s letters written during his three-month tour of the South of
France in 1787. I was moved to tears by their thoughtfulness, support,
genuine excitement for my plans, and display of friendship. Who knew
when I first started taking classes there that I would not only learn
to conjugate the subjunctive, but would also make some wonderful
friends?

Last weekend, I was hanging out with my sister when her daughter came
into the room. She’s 14 and in high school and this totally gorgeous
and amazing kid; and she has an older brother in college whom I equally
adore. I’ve been lucky enough to see them very frequently throughout
their young lives, and I’ve enjoyed every minute of it, having no kids
of my own. So I’m sitting there, looking at my niece, and before I knew
it, I had a melt-down when I realized how much I’d be missing in her
life by moving abroad. It hit me hard, all of a sudden, that choosing
to move abroad does come at a price—leaving behind people and places
you love in order to have the opportunity to experience NEW people and
places.

But as hard as all the “lasts” have been, there are many “firsts” ahead
of me, too. And THAT is what excites me most, thinking about those
firsts.

The first glimpse of the Eiffel Tower, welcoming me back to Paris.

The first time I can look around my Paris rental apartment and realize that I’m “home”.

My first time back on the Pont des Arts, my favorite place to people-watch and probably my favorite view of Paris.

The first time I finally get to visit the Louvre and see my namesake, the Mona Lisa.

The first time I have to go food shopping or do any number of normal,
everyday things that people do when they live in a place versus “just
passing through”, when it will sink in that I really LIVE here!

The first time I have to make a phone call in French (I’m dreading that
one – at least when you have a face-to-face conversation you can use
gestures to help make yourself understood).

I know there are more firsts ahead for me in Paris than I can count or
even imagine. Not all of them will be happy firsts (I’m sure to be
frustrated by my less-than-fluent French skills and by mastering public
transportation after a lifetime of driving my own car), but most of
them will be. And in the end, the firsts will no doubt far outweigh the
lasts.

I’m getting so excited to be finally doing the one big thing I have
dreamed of doing my entire life, I can hardly think straight sometimes.
Each time I really think about it, about the significance of what this
means for me, I can literally feel my heart swelling and expanding in
my chest. My cup runneth over, and I’m so grateful.

Still, I think I’d better wear waterproof mascara on my last day when I have to say goodbye to my family and my best friend.

Comments

The Firsts and Lasts of Moving Abroad

My recent BonjourParis.com column is now available. Although I wrote it before I actually got on the plane and I'm already in Paris, I hope it manages to convey the emotional pendulum that comes with the decision to move abroad.

By the time you read this, I will be living in Paris. Not just a
tourist this time around, taking a week or two of precious vacation
time to see the sights, but officially an ex-pat, I’m in it for the
long haul, living life abroad. And it’s been an emotional
roller-coaster, this last couple of weeks.

It’s a time of “lasts” all the way around: the last week before
boarding the plane; the last get-together with dear friends; the last
Halloween (not such a big deal in France); the last family dinner for a
while (I’m missing Thanksgiving but consoling myself with the thought
that I will be back for a few weeks at Christmas).

When I went to my last French class, intending to surprise my teacher
and classmates with some French treats I got at a local patisserie
(yes, there actually IS one in New Jersey), it turns out I was the one
who was surprised! One classmate baked some French pastry cookies for
me, and others, including my teacher and the directrice of the school,
gave me some lovely parting gifts: a book on unusual things to do in
Paris; a set of French immersion CDs to help me improve my admittedly
weak listening comprehension skills; and a delightful book of Thomas
Jefferson’s letters written during his three-month tour of the South of
France in 1787. I was moved to tears by their thoughtfulness, support,
genuine excitement for my plans, and display of friendship. Who knew
when I first started taking classes there that I would not only learn
to conjugate the subjunctive, but would also make some wonderful
friends?

Last weekend, I was hanging out with my sister when her daughter came
into the room. She’s 14 and in high school and this totally gorgeous
and amazing kid; and she has an older brother in college whom I equally
adore. I’ve been lucky enough to see them very frequently throughout
their young lives, and I’ve enjoyed every minute of it, having no kids
of my own. So I’m sitting there, looking at my niece, and before I knew
it, I had a melt-down when I realized how much I’d be missing in her
life by moving abroad. It hit me hard, all of a sudden, that choosing
to move abroad does come at a price—leaving behind people and places
you love in order to have the opportunity to experience NEW people and
places.

But as hard as all the “lasts” have been, there are many “firsts” ahead
of me, too. And THAT is what excites me most, thinking about those
firsts.

The first glimpse of the Eiffel Tower, welcoming me back to Paris.

The first time I can look around my Paris rental apartment and realize that I’m “home”.

My first time back on the Pont des Arts, my favorite place to people-watch and probably my favorite view of Paris.

The first time I finally get to visit the Louvre and see my namesake, the Mona Lisa.

The first time I have to go food shopping or do any number of normal,
everyday things that people do when they live in a place versus “just
passing through”, when it will sink in that I really LIVE here!

The first time I have to make a phone call in French (I’m dreading that
one – at least when you have a face-to-face conversation you can use
gestures to help make yourself understood).

I know there are more firsts ahead for me in Paris than I can count or
even imagine. Not all of them will be happy firsts (I’m sure to be
frustrated by my less-than-fluent French skills and by mastering public
transportation after a lifetime of driving my own car), but most of
them will be. And in the end, the firsts will no doubt far outweigh the
lasts.

I’m getting so excited to be finally doing the one big thing I have
dreamed of doing my entire life, I can hardly think straight sometimes.
Each time I really think about it, about the significance of what this
means for me, I can literally feel my heart swelling and expanding in
my chest. My cup runneth over, and I’m so grateful.

Still, I think I’d better wear waterproof mascara on my last day when I have to say goodbye to my family and my best friend.

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